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My Life In High School

Decent Essays
I grew up in a life where I was told I needed to go to church at 8:20 every Tuesday, had to wear collared shirts of only red, white, or blue that are to be tucked into my khaki pants, held up by the mandatory belt, and I had better pray to Jesus that I can sneak past the teachers with my forbidden neon socks. This life was Catholic School. Attending Resurrection, honestly, was pretty fantastic; of course, no kid wanted to wear those tragic uniforms every day when they know other kids are wearing sweatpants, but I enjoyed school. This all changed when I graduated from middle school and it was time for high school. I walked into Mater Dei knowing exactly where to go to meet my best friends, the best friends that carried over from Resurrection. This didn’t last long. I probably should’ve seen this coming, nevertheless, I was crushed when I finally realized our little group had fallen apart. In addition to losing my friends, I hated soccer. The coach was crazy. The sport was too competitive, and I began to despise it. For the remainder of the year, I just tried to find where I could fit in again. As freshman year dragged itself across the finish line, I was miserable.
I was conversing with a friend from Mount Vernon talking about how I hated school, and we were joking around about how I should transfer schools and go to Mount Vernon next year. The idea was nowhere near as crazy as I had thought at first. I told my mom about the preposterous conversation and to my astonishment,
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